You Taught Me That
by PinkRangerV
Summary: "Don't make me destroy you, Trent." "Bring it, old man." A character study for Tommy and Trent. Oneshot.


A\N: I've said it before and I'll say it again: Canon did not treat Trent well. Enjoy.

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><p><em>"Don't think I won't destroy you, Trent!"<em>

Why did you _say _that?

I look up.

The stars shine through the pine needles. In a rare moment of sanity I ran here, to the woods; I thought maybe the Native spirits, the ones the white men killed, would come take me to my death here. Or maybe I'd get the courage to slit my wrists. Or morph and blow my brains out with my blaster.

Or maybe I'll just lay here on my bedroll all night and wake up insane tomorrow.

I laugh to myself, hollow and bitter. Yeah. That last one sounds about right.

I raise my wrist. The White Dino Gem glitters on it, in a silver morpher, like a star fallen from heaven. "Where'd you fall from." I ask, almost fond now, one brother talking to another. "Which constellation had you before me, hmm? Let's see...Orion?" I glance at the belt, the arms, the legs, the shield. "Nope, all there...Taurus, must be Taurus." I laugh again. "Not that I have a damn clue what that looks like."

God. I'm talking to myself.

I sigh and let my wrist fall.

It's so peaceful. The pine trees grow tall and proud. On the forest floor, their dried leaves are a harsh bed, but with my bedroll it's okay. Tangled, thorny plants; random brush; I've seen fairy-tale forests and this isn't it. It's older, darker, requires more intelligence.

But it holds the same peace as any other forest.

I shut my eyes. My hands on the ground tingle, as if Earth herself is giving me energy tonight, and I reach out, sink-

_"Don't think I won't destroy you, Trent!"_

Damn. Fucking _damn_!

I open my eyes.

For a long second I lay there. The hurt and pain wash over me. Then I sit up and command my morpher, "Call up file Thomas Oliver."

It does, obligingly. The morphers have software that's easy to access if you know Eltarian. The Power Posers don't, but Dad programmed mine in Russian, his birth language, and guess what? There's a handy switch-languages function. Score one for the White Ranger.

I read the file.

First Evil Ranger. First Green Ranger. First White Ranger. Cloned, turned evil, multiple times for the last one. Red Zeo. Brainwashed into _leading the Machine Empire_.

_"Don't think I won't destroy you, Trent!"_

"I don't doubt you will." I tell the picture, laughing again, that sick bitter hollow laugh I hate. "Hell. You were the _first evil Ranger_. Of _course_ you'd win."

And I can see it.

I shut my eyes. It won't shut the images out. Myself, broken and bleeding on the ground, pleading for mercy; the Brachio Staff coming down; my corpse laying shattered on the ground; those little bitches congratulating their mentor on such a clean kill before going to toast my deaths with the woman I counted as a _friend_.

He'll kill me. I know he will. And he'll throw out the phrases everyone loves. For The Good Of The World, Destroyed An Enemy, and, my personal favorite, He Was Evil.

Evil.

I look at the Dino Gem.

In battle, I don't know up from down. I want to kill. I feel it pulsing through me, this twisted joy, and the energy is so strong I throw up after I demorph.

I'm not evil. I'm crazy.

And no one will help me. They leave me here, alone in this forest, to _rot_-

I stand and slam my fist into a tree.

I could have been pitiful for them, I really could have. If they had helped me, I would have helped them. Nothing will stop me from fighting the insanity, but when I lost, there would be no grudging respect for my enemy. I wouldn't have let him trap the others; I wouldn't have assumed they could handle me.

I would have cried and begged and pleaded. I would have abased myself and let them watch. I would have done anything if they had once, just once, looked at me with anything other than revulsion.

_"Don't think I won't destroy you, Trent!"_

A slow, cruel smile spreads over my face. They didn't look at me with anything but revulsion, though, did they? And my father, my _wonderfully caring father_, has let me move back in...

"Bring it, old man." I snarl, hefting my gear.

I can take it.

You taught me that.


End file.
